Crossing the Line
by BlackRose8646
Summary: HarryDraco slash. This story occurs postOoTP and is how I want the sixth book to go. While dealing with his own pain, Harry notices something different in his onetime arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy. There is a fine line between love and hate. RonHerm HD WIP
1. More than meets the eye

Crossing the Line by GiddyGirl15.

Warning: This story will contain slash! Harry/Draco in particular.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…that honor belongs to J. K. Rowling. Please oh please don't sue!

Summary: WIP: This story takes place during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. While Harry copes with the fresh loss of his beloved Godfather, Sirius Black, he begins to notice a change in his onetime arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy. Upon looking further into the issue, Harry discovers that there is more to Draco than he lets on, and, strangely, he feels compelled to help this so-called 'Dark' wizard. As both boys soon discover, there is a very fine line between love and hate. Read on! PG-13 for future m/m slash.

Author's note: This is my first ever story and I have absolutely no idea how it's going to turn out! Bare with me as I attempt to write my very first original rendition of how I think Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts should go! ;) Thank you so much for reading and I will love you forever if you review! Enjoy!

P.S. I plan on updating this story once a week as long as there are at least three reviews …so review, review, REVIEW!

Crossing the Line 

Chapter One: More than Meets the Eye

Harry Potter stared longingly out of the Hogwarts Express compartment. God, how he missed his Godfather. Aside from Molly Weasley, Sirius Black had been the closest thing to a parent that Harry had ever had, and now he was gone. And it was all thanks to him. Despite everyone's efforts to console him with assurance that Sirius' death was just another to be blamed by the war, he could not help but hold the fault. He felt completely and utterly alone.

"Hey Harry!"

The compartment door slid open, snapping Harry out of his dismal thoughts. Ron Weasley stood in the doorway. He had now grown so tall that he barely cleared the ceiling of the tiny compartment. Other than height however, he had not changed one bit. He had the same red hair, lean body, and freakishly abundant freckles as always. Flashing a 'good to see you' smile in Harry's direction, he took a seat.

"Sorry it took so long, mate, me an' Hermione had to help out some First Years," said Ron, helping himself to some of Harry's chocolate frogs.

Glad to divert his thoughts from those of Sirius, Harry asked, "Where is Hermione?"

"McGonagall held her back. Wanted to talk to her about something," Ron shrugged. Professor McGonagall always seemed to be planning something. He was very surprised when he found that she was going to be directing the Prefect meeting. He guessed she considered anyone else too inadequate to carry on the message that now that Voldemort would surely target Hogwarts next, all the students were in constant danger and Ron and Hermione must, 'by any means necessary, keep the children from harm.' She was probably outfitting Hermione with some magical armor or something right now. Ron chuckled to himself. McGonagall, although a wonderfully brilliant and skilled witch, sometimes lacked rational thought in the time of crisis.

Harry had returned to staring mournfully out of the now rain-soaked window. Due to the events of the previous year, he had not been able to leave his aunt and uncles house even for his annual brief visit to the Weasley home. His summer had been monotonously horrible and his anger with Dumbledore had all but evaporated. Aside from himself, Harry blamed Dumbledore for his Godfather's death. If he had only been straight with him in the first place, Sirius would be alive and well. _Just stop thinking about it, Harry_, he ordered himself, _what's done is done. Sirius is dead and never coming back. There is nothing anyone can do now._ Just then Hermione entered the room, followed closely by her mangy cat, Crookshanks.

"Hello Harry, dear. How are you?" she said tiredly, taking a seat next to Ron. Unlike Ron, Hermione had changed quite a bit. Her once incorrigible mane of bushy brown hair had calmed down slightly, falling gracefully at her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with an even greater intelligence and wisdom than the previous year. She smiled encouragingly at Harry.

"I'm great, you?" said Harry with a falsely cheery voice. By the way Hermione's eyes seemed to delve into him, pulsing with deep pity, he knew she wanted to discuss Sirius, or, at least, how Harry was dealing with the loss of Sirius. He thought it best to steer the conversation away from that topic, at least for the time-being. He wasn't quite ready yet.

Catching on to the fact that Harry didn't want to talk about Sirius, she let the matter drop and decided it best not to mention it until Harry, himself, brought it up. "I hope your summer wasn't completely horrid. I was blue in the face trying to convince Dumbledore to let you come out to the Burrow, but he wouldn't budge," she said sadly.

"Oh well, it doesn't matter anyway," said Harry grumpily. His original respect for Dumbledore had been completely demolished, and even thinking about him burned his insides like hot coals. Still, he _had_ saved Harry's life, and that was something.

Suddenly a loud thump was heard just outside their compartment. Swinging the door open the trio peered outside…only to see a very disgruntled-looking Neville who seemed to have tripped over his own feet.

"Hello Neville. Had a good summer?" said Hermione, helping him to his feet.

"Not bad, I guess," he said. "Gran nearly flayed me alive when I told her about Dad's old wand," he laughed shakily. "But then I just told her all that happened and she starting crying and hugging me." Everyone in the room fell into an eerie silence, in which they all revisited horrible memories from that fateful night last June.

Just then, Draco Malfoy slumped - yes _slumped_ – past the open compartment door. With barely a glance at the occupants, he walked on with total and complete indifference.

"What's up with Malfoy?" Ron inquired bewilderedly, staring after the departing figure. He shrugged and returned to stuffing his face with an abnormal amount of sweets.

Harry, however, didn't shrug it off. Something was definitely different about Malfoy. His normally perfectly kept hair fell loosely all over his face, while his blue-gray eyes reflected a sad, almost lost expression that was enough to convince Harry that something was seriously out of place. He stood up and stared curiously out of the compartment after Malfoy. What could possibly have happened to the great, all-powerful wizard that used to be Draco Malfoy? Harry decided he needed to find out.

However, as he made his way down the aisle, the train screeched to a halt in front of Hogwarts and the hallway was soon packed with excited students. His little inquiry would have to wait.

Back in the Great Hall, having successfully increased their waist size by two, the students of Hogwarts began to file out to their dormitories to turn in for the night. Assuring Ron and Hermione that he would catch up with them later, Harry fought his way through the crowd over to where the Slytherins were walking. Catching sight of a familiar head of silvery-blonde hair, he hurried to catch up with Malfoy.

"Oy, Malfoy!" Harry called.

Barely turning around, Draco acknowledged him with a noncommittal shrug and kept walking. Frustrated now, Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked, voice no longer dripping with its usual venom, but merely sounding drained and sad. Looking at him up close this time, Harry noticed the dark circles of someone who seemed to not have slept well in an alarmingly long time. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight, and his arrogant smirk had faded, while his prim, proper facade had completely vanished. No longer was he 'Draco Malfoy, the filthy rich, arrogant spawn of the Devil's right-hand man'. No. Now he looked like a puppy who'd been beaten and tossed in the gutter in the pouring rain.

"What the hell happened to you?" Harry's voice was almost a whisper. "Dammit, Malfoy. You look like shit!" He knew that this probably wasn't the right time, but he just couldn't help himself. Malfoy _did_ look like shit! In a pathetic, pitiable, wretched, kind of cute sort of – _NO! Bad, bad, bad! Oh not good, not good at all! Malfoy was NOT, nor would he EVER be…cute._

"Well," Draco's voice snapped him out of his stupor. "As much as I've enjoyed this little confrontation, I'm a bit tired. So, if you'll excuse me Potter," and he walked off without another word. It was a huge relief to Harry to hear some of the old sarcastic malice. Seeing Dra – _Malfoy_ like that really disturbed him. He made a mental note to talk to Hermione about it. She would know what to do.

"Constant vigilance," Harry muttered distractedly. The Fat Lady swung open, allowing him access to the Gryffindor common room. Stepping out of the portrait hole, he was greeted with a familiar, comforting scene: Hermione sat in the big, comfy armchair reading (as always), while Ron and Neville enjoyed a refreshing game of Wizard's Chess in front of the crackling fire. Everyone else seemed to have retired for the night.

Harry walked over to where Hermione was sitting. "Hey 'Mione, can I talk to you about something?" She laid down her book and gave him her full attention. "What about?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I think there's something wrong with Malfoy. I mean, seriously wrong. Did you see how tired he was? And he didn't even try to pick a fight with us…it was really unnerving! I've never seen him act like that before," Harry said rather quickly. Hermione seemed to ponder this for a moment before saying, "Maybe he was just having a really bad day or something. Why does it even matter though, Harry? It is _Malfoy_ we're talking about. He's a royal prat!"

Before he knew it, Harry found himself actually defending his arch-nemesis. "C'mon Hermione, you know better than anyone that people change! I swear there was something genuinely different about him. It was almost as if he was – well, I don't know exactly what he was like, but you could see it in his eyes. There was pain there, and a lot of it!" Looking pensive, Hermione finally came to a conclusion. "Well, personally, I couldn't give a damn whether or not Malfoy was happy or not. But, if it means that much to you, I'll help you try and talk to him. We'll see if maybe we can trick him into telling us what's wrong, because he sure as hell won't tell us of his own free will."

"Thanks 'Mione, knew I could count on you!" He gave her a quick hug and headed off toward the boys' dorm rooms. He was too tired to talk, let alone think of a clever way to make Malfoy spill his innermost secrets. Quickly changing into his pajamas, Harry flopped into his bed and closed the curtains. Lying there, so tired yet unable to sleep, he found himself thinking, yet again, about Draco Malfoy. Why _did_ he care so much why Malfoy was acting strangely? It's not as if they'd ever been friends or even shared a civil word, but he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for Draco's current funk. He guessed that at least some of the pain reflected in his eyes had something to do with the imprisonment of his foolish father, Lucius Malfoy. Maybe Harry just cared because he was Harry, and it was in his nature to feel help those who need it. Or maybe it was just because he had become quite used to those little altercations in the hallway and hated any form of change. Or _maybe_ it was because Draco actually seemed almost human when he acted like this, and that just compelled Harry to help him. Well, whatever the reason, he knew that something was to be done, and the something would need to be done soon. With that, Harry drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

A/N: Well…here it is! I really, _really_ hope you liked it and I swear that you will be on my best friend list if you review! (Especially if it's a happy, ego-boosting review ;) ) I'll update in about a week, give or take a day. Thank you for reading!

P.S. Happy International Day of Slash:D


	2. Too Close for Comfort

Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Warning: SLASH! If you don't like it, kindly spare me the flames! Harry/Draco.

Disclaimer: Erm…I own nothing and I'm broke as a shattered piggy bank, so don't sue!

Author's Note: Well, here it is! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! You have no idea how much it makes my day to see that you took the time to give me some feedback. Thanks for all the constructive criticisms and I hope this chapter turns out a little less…well, boring. I realize that the whole 'Harry being concerned for Draco' thing is happening a little fast, but I was just kind of trying to play on Harry's being a really sensitive, compassionate guy who, no matter how hard he tries, can't push the fact that someone is hurting, even if that someone is Draco. Does that make any sense? Anyway, I really hope you enjoy my next installment of Crossing the Line. Please review!

P.S. No, I didn't make up International Day of Slash, it's an actual day! (Or so I'm told)

Chapter Two: Too Close for Comfort 

"Okay, let's review," Hermione looked up from her notes. "First, tomorrow night at the tail end of dinner, you will walk by the Slytherin table and 'slip', spilling Veritaserum into Malfoy's pumpkin juice. Once he drinks it and gets up to leave, you and I follow him, sneak up, and force him into the nearest empty classroom where we'll interrogate him!" She said excitedly with a maniacal glint in her eye.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, is all this really necessary? Why don't I just try talking to Malfoy and see what happens? Maybe, if I catch him while his guard is down, I'll be able to get some answers," he yawned. This first week of school had been very draining, and now that it was midnight on Friday night, he really just wanted to go to bed.

Looking slightly put out, Hermione agreed and set off for the girl's dormitories, quietly muttering to herself about Harry being too sensible for his own good.

Harry yawned again. He stared into the dancing flames of the common room fire. Less than a year ago, he had been talking to Sirius in this very spot. He took it for granted, then, having someone like Sirius to go to for help. Ever since freeing him from the Dementors, Harry had continuously gone to him whenever he had a problem, thinking that no matter what, Sirius would be able to help him. But now Sirius was gone. Harry would not be able to go to him again, tell him how much he meant to him, and make wise cracks about what a big slimy git Professor Snape was. Never again would the bark-like laugh echo in Harry's ears. Never again would he feel the comforting warmth of his Godfather's embrace. Never again would he question Sirius on how his seemingly more-than-friends relationship with a Mr. Remus Lupin was going –

"Harry, mate, are you coming up?" Ron stepped into the common room. Quickly snapping out of his stupor, Harry stood up and followed Ron up to the dormitories.

The next day dawned with thunderstorms and pouring rain. While for many people the rain was a depressing scene that induced a sorrowful mood, to Harry it was beautiful. He loved the familiar sound of the droplets colliding with the roof of the school, and the pitter-patter of drops on the lake. The rain always made him slightly wistful and happy. No matter how hard he tried, he could barely concentrate on anything else.

As the day drew to a close, Harry decided it was time to seek out Malfoy and attempt to get some answers as to why he was in such a horrible state. After finishing dinner, Harry set out to find him. However, upon inspection of the entire castle and a thorough questioning of Malfoy's former Slytherins, he found that Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

Disappointed, Harry headed back up to his dormitory. As he passed the window, however, his disappointment rapidly vanished. Standing at the edge of the lake, hands in pockets, was a thoroughly drenched Draco Malfoy. Quickly changing courses, Harry hurried outside to where the forlorn young man was standing.

Walking slowly up behind Malfoy, Harry said quietly, "beautiful, isn't it?" He wasn't sure if Malfoy had even heard him, as his eyes were partially glazed over and he looked to be in his own little world.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy responded without venom or malice. He seemed to be completely oblivious as to who it was he was talking to. "Yeah, beautiful," He said almost breathlessly. He seemed lost in thought as the rain continued to pelt his face. His hair and clothes were drenched as if he'd been out there for hours. Harry looked a little closer and discovered that there were tear stains on his cheeks. He looked so vulnerable, so innocent. Now seemed like the perfect time for Harry's little interrogation.

"So," Harry began slowly. "Erm, penny for your thoughts?" Immediately Harry noticed the familiar walls snap into place. In a single instant, Malfoy had gone from defenseless, unguarded, innocent child to the cold-hearted bastard that Harry knew only too well. Harry quickly realized the stupidity of his plan. This was _Draco Malfoy_, what had he been thinking? _Hmmm…maybe about how cute Draco was just a moment ago? Or maybe about how much better Draco's hair looked when it fell about his face like that, instead of being slicked back with unnatural amounts of hair gel? Or maybe he had been thinking about how beautiful his cloudy, blue-gray eyes were? Or, could it be he had been thinking about the porcelain beauty that was Draco Malfo – woah! Hold on! _Harry violently shook his head rid of the horrid thoughts. _What the hell was that!_

"Go away," Dra – _Malfoy _ said tiredly, looking away. For the first time, Harry noticed the pain in his voice. Someone had hurt him, and bad. Now Harry was _definitely_ curious as to what had happened. He stayed put.

"Seriously, Potter. I'm not in the mood," Malfoy said threateningly. When Harry didn't budge, he stepped closer so that their faces were mere centimeters apart. "Leave, now! Before I do something I'll regret later," Malfoy glared, hate etched in his stormy eyes. _Dammit, Potter, just leave! And stop standing there looking all pathetic and adorable – no…not adorable. Never adorable. Ugly. Wretched. Nauseatingly beautifu – stop that!_

Harry gulped as Draco stepped closer. He could see the rain making curved streaks down his tear-stained face, the droplets dripping off his beautiful eyelashes. Stumbling back, Harry removed his glasses and rubbed the water off on his already rain-soaked shirt. (He did this whenever he was nervous or scared.) He turned his emerald-green eyes up to Draco's and their gazes met. For the life of him, Harry could not look away.

They stayed like that for awhile, eyes locked, pulses becoming rapidly more urgent, until an enormous bolt of lightening struck just between them, knocking them both off their feet. "Just stay away from me Potter," Draco muttered solemnly, getting to his feet. He turned on his heel and headed back to the castle.

_What the hell just happened here?_ Harry asked himself, staring after the departing figure in bewilderment. Shaking his head, he headed back to the castle himself. He needed to talk to Hermione.

Back in the common room, Harry and Hermione sat talking about what had taken place earlier by the lake. Purposefully leaving out the part with the undeniable, awkward sexual tension, Harry told Hermione all about the confrontation. Draco's actions caused alarms to go off in Hermione's head telling her something wasn't right. The nonsensicalness of it all was enough to make her go insane.

"I just don't get it!" she exclaimed, plopping into the big armchair. "What do you think could have possibly happened? I mean, he's acting completely out of character. Malfoy's would never go out in public without looking like royalty, let alone stand outside in the pouring rain. What is up with him?"

"I know, 'Mione, it's really weird. Do you think that maybe it has something to do with his father or something?" Harry asked, voicing one of his many concerns.

"I don't think so. How could Lucius hurt him while he's in Azkaban?" Hermione said, logically. "Besides, why would Lucius _want_ to hurt him? I mean, as far as we know, Malfoy is all ready to become mister hot-shot Death Eater any day now."

"Wait a minute, Hermione, I think you may be onto something. What if Dra – Malfoy refused to become a Death Eater? What if he decided not to play on the Dark side?" Harry pondered. _Why would he though?_ Said a small voice in his head. _What would he have to gain?_

"I don't know Harry. I just don't know."

A/N: Well, there you go! I know it's kind of short, but it just seemed to end there. I definitely had more fun writing this chapter than the last one and I really hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't going to put in any Harry/Draco stuff until next chapter, but it just seemed to write itself! Anyway…I hope to bring Ron into the picture a little more next chapter, fill him in on what's going on. Let me know what you think so far! Now for the gratitude to all my wonderful reviewers! Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed… everyone has you to thank for the early update! I got a grand total of 13 reviews and you have no idea how happy that made me! I thought it fitting to reward you guys for that, so review some more and you'll get an early update in return! And remember, constructive criticism is always welcome;)


	3. Confessions

Crossing the Line: By GiddyGirl15

Warning: Slash. As in m/m relationships. As in not suitable for all those homophobic people out there. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own squat and I'm making absolutely no money. Don't sue please!

Author's note: Hello everybody! Well, here it is, next chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far…I can't stress enough how much it makes my day to check my e-mail and actually find messages! ;) Anyway, for this next chapter I hope to amp up the awkwardness a bit, maybe play in a little truce or something? Who knows? Well, _I_ do, but that's besides the point. : clears throat : Moving on…I also hope to introduce Ron a bit more, kind of get him up to date with the situation. So…yeah…I hope you enjoy! (And remember to let me know if you do or don't in one of those fantastic reviews ;) )

Chapter Three: Confessions 

"Why do you two keep looking over at the Slytherin table?" Ron stared at Harry and Hermione, whose furtive glances at the opposite side of the room had him quite perplexed. "You guys have been acting really distracted ever since school started. What's going on?" They both seemed rather troubled about something…something Ron wasn't involved in. The fact that Harry and Hermione were keeping something from him was completely out of character for them. Normally, the three were an inseparable trio that shared gossip and concocted crazy schemes to get themselves into trouble. Now, however, Harry and Hermione had their own little secret that Ron wasn't a part of. So where did that leave him? He knew the two too well to think that they would ever abandon him, but the doubts began to creep into his mind nonetheless. He couldn't help but notice the frequent shared glances between Harry and Hermione that he wasn't involved in.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. They had talked about this, knowing only too well that, eventually, Ron would catch on to their little interest. Ron was not a very open-minded person and not usually one to forgive and forget, and they knew that he wouldn't be in a hurry to give a damn about Draco Malfoy one way or another. Still, they both hated keeping secrets from him, and hated lying to him even worse. So they decided that when he asked, they would tell him the truth.

Hermione took a breath and looked at Ron. "Okay, well, erm," she started, not sure what to say. "Do you remember back on the train? When Malfoy kind of, erm, I dunno, was acting sort of strange?"

Ron huffed. "Yeah, so?" He did _not_ like where this conversation was going.

"Well he, um, hasn't really been himself since the start of school. Okay, that's an understatement. He's been totally out of it! Haven't you noticed that he hasn't once picked a fight with us, or anyone else for that matter? He hasn't even _talked_ much to anybody! And Harry, well, sort of made it his mission to figure out what's up. And I guess I've sort of been helping him." Hermione looked up at Ron.

Ron looked incredulous. "What does it matter though? I mean, c'mon, it's _Malfoy_! We're talking about bloody _Draco Malfoy_! The royal prat who has made our lives a living hell ever since we started school here! His father's You-Know-Who's right hand man for God's sake! Why do you care whether or not he's happy!" He shouted. What could have possibly possessed them to even spare Malfoy a passing glance? He shook his head, staring dumbfounded at the two.

"Look, Ron," Harry said quietly. "I know it's strange, mate, and I know it's hard to believe, but something's changed. I don't know what it is, but something has definitely changed. It's not Malfoy anymore." He glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco was just sitting there, playing with his food, keeping to himself. Harry saw Pansy make a brave stab at conversation, but to no avail. Yep, something was different alright – normally, Pansy and Draco were flirting like mad whenever they got the chance. But now, Draco was just sitting there. Sitting there with total and complete indifference. It was as if he had just stopped caring. Not just about Pansy, or tormenting the Golden Trio, but life itself. It looked as though Draco Malfoy would have loved nothing more than to just drop dead right there. This was worse than Harry thought.

"Whatever," said Ron, shaking his head once more and getting up from the table. Harry and Hermione soon followed suit.

The following couple of weeks, the trio became so involved in their schoolwork that the issue of Malfoy's depression was pushed to the back of their minds. The teachers loaded on the work and made it so any "free-time" was to be spent hunched over 500-page thick textbooks, studying at any possible second. The worst of said teachers was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the _real _Alastor Moody. Although many of the students still regarded him with a wary eye due to the recent antics of imposter Moody, Barty Crouch, he still acted as though nothing had happened and made it a point to bring them all up to speed on what they missed in the last year with that joke of a teacher whose name shall not be mentioned in this story. : mutters under breath about what an arrogant, biased little witch she was (excuse the pun he he he) : sorry, getting off track… Harry, Ron, and especially Hermione found little time to breathe, let alone worry about anyone else's problems. Even Harry, with his strange little obsession over Malfoy, could not find the time to even spare a thought concerning him. Every once and a while, some strange behavior of Malfoy's would catch him off guard and he would be confronted with the issue yet again, only to have it forced to the back of his mind by another assignment.

Fortunately, the next weekend was Hogsmeade. The teachers seemed to lighten up slightly on the work, allowing all of the students a chance to actually go out and have some fun. The real reason, however, was that they were all sick and tired of grading countless papers and coming up with new lesson plans. They wanted to have some fun of their own. Not that any of the students minded of course.

And so the glorious weekend arrived, and students from all houses clustered around the front door, eagerly awaiting their time off from schoolwork.

The crisp chill of the upcoming winter caused Harry, Ron, and Hermione to pull their cloaks a little tighter around their cold bodies. The village of Hogsmeade was bustling and beautiful. Everywhere they looked they saw excited students running around, laughing, hands full of numerous goodies. The trio immediately headed over to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to see how the Weasley twins' new business was going…and were definitely not disappointed in what they saw.

A huge, brightly-colored building with big, golden letters stood on the Weasley twins' premises. Stepping inside was like taking a portal to a whole new world – there were little gag gifts and joke merchandise everywhere the eye could see. Many of it was being readily tested by thousands of young children and teens, giggling madly and looking as though they were having the time of their lives. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked a bit further in to find a broadly-grinning George in a hideous purple suit.

"Hey you three! Well…what do you think?" George said excitedly, gesturing at the store.

"It's brilliant, George! It really is!" Ron looked completely beside himself and positively impressed at his older brothers' accomplishments. He stared in wonder at the miraculous store, mouth agape. "This is fantastic," he breathed.

Just then, a 'Weasley Wildfire Whiz-Bang' shot through Ron's legs, causing him to squeal and leap about 3 feet into the air, landing smack on his rear. Fred came up behind them in an equally hideous purple suit, laughing hysterically. Giving his twin brother a high-five, he turned to the three students. "Well, well, well! Good to see you all! Do you like the new shop?"

Struggling to recover from his laughing fit, Harry managed to get out, "It's amazing!" He offered Ron a hand and helped him up. "You guys can hang out here for a little while, okay? I'll catch up with you in a bit," he said to Ron and Hermione, who gave him questioning looks but didn't ask. "Well done with the joke shop Fred, George! You're brilliant," he said shaking their hands.

Waving goodbye, Harry stepped out into the chilly village. Wrapping his cloak around himself once more, he set off toward the Shrieking Shack. He walked slowly, while his thoughts drifted back to Sirius yet again. The Shrieking Shack was the place where they'd met for the first time. Harry smiled, remembering their first encounter. To think, he had almost killed his beloved Godfather, thinking him a betrayer and murderer. He remembered the fear, the hurt, and the eventual love that had developed between them. He had loved Sirius so much. He was like the father he had never had; because that father that had been stolen from Harry as a child. Stolen by Voldemort. And now Sirius, the closest thing he'd ever had to a father, was stolen – by Voldemort. The familiar anger began to build inside the pit of Harry's stomach. If not for Voldemort, he would have a mother, a father, a Godfather, and at least the semblance of a normal life. If not for Voldemort, he would be happy. He wouldn't be famous, having random strangers gawking at his forehead 24/7, living life through the expectations of the Wizarding world. Things would be different. Better.

Suddenly, his musings were rudely interrupted by a series of harsh voices coming from up ahead. Looking around, he realized that his feet had carried him to the bottom of the hill leading up to the Shrieking Shack. Listening closer, he recognized one of the voices as none other than Lucius Malfoy. _How the hell did he get out of Azkaban!_ Crouching behind a bush, Harry peaked out and watched the scene unfold.

"You have disappointed me, my son," a cold, silky voice said. That voice could only belong to Lucius Malfoy. There were three hooded figures standing in a circle. One of the figures Harry assumed to be Lucius. The other two looked to be a couple of his fellow Death Eaters. One shifted himself slightly, revealing the crouching figure in the middle. Harry stifled a gasp. "Crucio," whispered Lucius. Draco shrieked and writhed, fists clenched, face contorted. It lasted for about a minute, and once the effects of the curse were lifted, he just lay there, trembling, glaring up at his father. "You do not turn your back on the Dark Lord, my son," Lucius said with an equally venomous glare. "You disgust me!" He yelled, kicking Draco hard in the ribs. "And now, dear boy," he said, controlling himself. "You die. You die for your betrayal and cowardice. You die for the dishonor you brought to the Malfoy name. You die by my hand."

The Death Eaters moved in. Without even thinking, Harry shot out of the bushes where he had been concealed and cast multiple disarming spells at the hooded figures. Remarkably, they all found their marks, probably due to the fact that the attack was so unexpected. If Lucius Malfoy had to have a weakness, it would be that. He never seemed to be ready for the unexpected. Darting forward, Harry touched Malfoy's shoulder and quickly Apparated the two of them to the upstairs bedroom of the Shrieking Shack…the very place where he had met Sirius two years earlier. Dumbledore had taught him to Apparate at the beginning of this year, hoping he could use it as an unanticipated weapon, as he wasn't legally allowed to do so until he was 17. _Well,_ thought Harry. _I definitely don't think Lucius Malfoy was expecting it, that's for sure._

A shuddering breath from the corner brought Harry back to attention. Draco sat, curled up into a tight ball, still trembling slightly, and looking at Harry with open fear. Harry took a deep breath and sat down on the bed.

"Okay. I think now would be an appropriate time for some serious explanations," he said quietly. "What the _hell_ is going on!"

"Nothing," came the soft reply.

"Oh bloody hell, Malfoy! I just witnessed your own father try to murder you!" Harry exclaimed somewhat incredulously. "Now. You're either going to tell me what the bloody hell is happening or I'm going to force-feed you Veritaserum and _make_ you tell me what the bloody hell is happening!"

Draco shuddered again. Deciding he would rather tell the story of his own free will and hold onto any dignity he'd managed to retain, he began his tale. "Well," he took a deep breath. "I guess it all started when I refused the Dark Mark last July. All my life I've been told that Muggles are horrible and should not be allowed to live, and Muggle-born witches and wizards have 'dirty blood.' But never once did I meet a witch or wizard who I actually could _tell_ had Muggle parentage. I mean, I hated some of the Muggle-borns, like Granger. But, I also hated some Purebloods, like Weasel. It really didn't make that much of a difference! That was when I began to question my father's and You-Know-Who's work. What did it matter if someone had Muggle parents? I mean, honestly! Sounded a bit childish to me. Anyway, once my father went to prison, I had no one to tell You-Know-Who that I was too young to join him. One night he came to my house. He killed my mother when she tried to defend me, and then tried to take me. So I ran. I ran to Dumbledore. He put me in a safe house until it was time to start school. Then, I guess Lucius escaped from Azkaban, just like I knew he would, and sent out to find me. And he did," his voice broke slightly. He hadn't looked at Harry the entire time. Wiping his tears away with an impatient hand, he looked up at Harry with no more malice or anger, just sadness and fear.

Harry slowly let out the breath he was holding. _Wow. I never thought I'd see the day; I feel sorry for Draco Malfoy. I guess he really isn't all that bad, now that I think about it. I mean, sure he's a pompous know-it-all that really knows how to kick someone while they are down, but he isn't as 'evil' as I've always thought him to be. Maybe…no, it's too absurd. Maybe though…we could be friends…come to a truce of sorts…work together. After all, it wouldn't hurt to have a wizard as talented as him fighting against Voldemort. He does know all of the tricks of the trade when it comes to the Dark side, considering his pathetic excuse for a father. But, no. It would never happen. This was Draco Malfoy._ Harry stared at Draco and Draco stared back. Neither knew what to do or say. The silence was deafening.

Then Ron's words began to leak back into Harry's mind. _"What does it matter though? I mean, c'mon, it's Malfoy! We're talking about bloody Draco Malfoy! The royal prat who has made our lives a living hell ever since we started school here!"_ _What if Draco wasn't telling the truth? What if he just wants to get on my good side so he can spy for Voldemort or something? What if he only wants to kill me? But then why did Lucius Malfoy try to murder him? Why did Draco look so lost, so unprotected?_ His thoughts battled like this for quite some time, until a noise alerted him to someone's presence just outside the house.

Harry and Draco immediately tensed, preparing themselves for a confrontation. Apparating for a young wizard like Harry was extremely difficult, and it had been a miracle that he'd even been able to transport both him _and_ Draco, even if it was only a short ways. There was no way in hell that he could do it again so soon after the last time. Thinking fast, Harry grabbed Draco's hand and led him out of the bedroom and down the stairs in the direction of the secret entrance of the passage leading to the Whomping Willow. But before they reached the trapdoor, footsteps approached the closed door just beyond the entrance…someone was coming…

A/N: Mwahahahahahaha! I'm so evil! Cliffhangers make me smile ! Who is it behind the door? Has Lucius discovered their location? Will Harry and Draco make it out alive? I guess you'll have to wait to find out::evil laughs again: Okay, I'm done. Thank you for reading everyone! This one is extra long to make up for the brevity of last chapter. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this and I would love for everyone to review! Seriously, I know you can't have _that_ much of a life if you're reading Harry/Draco fanfics on the internet! ;) I'm just kidding…I'm sure you all have very busy lives…but please take like two minutes out of your hectic schedules to review anyway! I love you all and I will see you next week!


	4. Trust

Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: I do not own a bloody thing. J.K. Rowling, the absolute Goddess of all things Harry Potter, takes all of the credit for anything you recognize in this story. Please oh pretty, pretty please don't sue me!

Warning: Harry/Draco slash. If it's not your thing, please don't read.

Author's Note: Hi again! Well, I _wanted_ to get this next chappie out before the next book, but, unfortunately, I got a little tied up. Oh well. Speaking of which, I do believe that HBP is my new favorite book even though that certain person, who will remain nameless for any Harry Potter "fans" that have not yet finished the sixth book, dies. :'( And there is soooo much slash in this one! Harry is _so_ totally and completely in love with Draco…he just doesn't realize it yet ;) And he should stop kidding himself with Ginny. Anyway, here's the next chapter and I really hope you enjoy it! I hope to at least enhance Harry and Draco's relationship to friends in this next part, because I just can't stand the thought of writing more Draco depression! Maybe we can get Harry to cheer him up ;) I really, really hope you enjoy it and please, oh pretty _please_ review!

P.S. I promise that I have this story all planned out and I won't use any of the sixth book's ideas! I thought I'd better make that clear since the issue is bound to come up.

P.S.S. Please note that I changed the rating to R because I felt kind of limited with a mere PG-13 rating…: P! So anyway, onto the story!

Thinking fast, Harry grabbed Draco's hand and led him out of the bedroom and down the stairs in the direction of the secret entrance of the passage leading to the Whomping Willow. But before they reached the trapdoor, footsteps approached the closed door just beyond the entrance…someone was coming…

Chapter Four: Trust 

Harry held his breath. Next to him, Draco paled and glanced up at Harry, horrified. They would never make it out unseen. The door slowly creaked open and a shadowy figure stepped inside of the dusty room. Both boys braced themselves for a confrontation. Harry pointed his wand at the approaching person, shaking with nerves.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing? Put that wand down before you hurt someone!" Hermione stepped into the light, looking from Draco to Harry, completely baffled. "What's going on here?" Her eyes looked suspicious.

Ron stumbled over the threshold into the dimly lit room. "What's happenin' 'Mione?"

Harry and Draco both breathed a sigh of relief. _I never thought I'd be glad to see those two, _Draco thought to himself. Realizing he was no longer in any immediate danger, he stood and sneered, attempting to maintain his 'I am Draco, fear me!' disposition.

With one last characteristic smirk, Draco turned on his heel and walked toward the door without a word.

"I wouldn't go out there if I were you," Harry said.

"I'll do whatever I damn well please, Potter," he said haughtily.

Harry was surprised how fast Draco had returned to his arrogant, bitchy little self. He rolled his eyes. "Because your dear old dad is just outside the house," Harry said smoothly, pointing out the window. "Wouldn't want to run into him now would we?"

The smirk was immediately replaced by a look of horror as Draco's head snapped around to look out the dusty window. Sure enough, there was Lucius, making his way up the hill. "Shit. Get me out of here, Potter!" He said it almost like a threat, hoping that Harry would be frightened into obedience. Unfortunately, Harry just stood there and crossed his arms, scowling at the Slytherin.

"I should just let him have you. You're sick, Malfoy. I'm not going to lift one damn finger for you if you continue being a prat to me and my friends. Either you're gonna start acting like a decent human being or we're going to let your bastard of a father have you. And _don't_ think I'm kidding." Harry glared at Draco, wondering vaguely why he was even giving this piece of shit a chance. _Because he's so damn cute when he's scared…Shit. Stop that! Oh bloody hell…_

With one last frantic look toward the approaching threat, Draco came to a decision. "Fine! Fine. I'll try and be…_civilized_…to you and your little posse, Potter. Just get me the hell out of here!"

Knowing that was the best kind of a promise he was going to get from the pompous Slytherin, Harry gestured for everyone to follow him into the secret passageway.

After about twenty minutes of trudging through the dank tunnel, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco emerged from under the Whomping Willow. Ron reached a hand down and helped Hermione out of the whole, earning him a questioning eyebrow from Draco. He blushed and looked away. The foursome made their way onto the grounds in an awkward silence, nobody knowing what to say.

Finally, after dozens of curious glances at Draco, Ron spoke up. "So what the bloody hell are you doing with Malfoy, Harry? And why was he so petrified of Lucius?"

Harry looked at Draco, who shrugged and nodded, knowing that Harry wouldn't be able to keep his secret for long. Harry took a breath and began, "Well, Malfoy's kind of, um, well, on our side now. He refused the Dark Mark and now his dad wants him dead. I guess I sort of, um, saved him." He glanced at Draco, uncertain whether or not to go into anymore detail. Ron and Hermione looked slightly puzzled, knowing there was more to the story, but didn't press Harry for more information.

Despite Harry's assurance that they could trust him, Hermione was skeptical. Why would Draco Malfoy, the lord of Muggle-born prejudice, owner of the darkest wizard reputation in the entire Hogwarts School, royal prick, and incessant pain in the ass, suddenly have such a dramatic change of heart? It would be so easy for him to take advantage of Harry's decency and use his cunning ways to breach the Light forces. _But what if the stinky little prat is telling the truth?_ Hermione mused. _I've never seen him that scared before…well, unless you count when he was attacked by Buckbeak, or when he went into the Dark Forest for the first time…but the point is, he never gets scared without a reason. And he looked genuinely terrified! But what if he's just a really good actor? I wouldn't put it past him…he is a Malfoy, after all._ She looked over to see Draco standing just beyond the three Gryffindors, looking at his shoes. She walked over to him. "Malfoy," she said in what she hoped was a somewhat friendly tone. "I want you to tell me right now. I don't want you to lie, and I don't want you to stretch the truth. I just want to hear it straight, got it? Are you honestly in trouble here or are you simply taking advantage of some Gryffindor nobility? I've got some serious skepticism here."

Draco looked at her and said angrily, "Look Granger, I get it, okay? You don't trust me and you probably never will. Frankly, I don't give a damn if you Gryffindors help me at all! I'm just fine on my own. And just for the record I was actually telling the truth this time." He stalked away, up toward the castle. She wasn't sure, but Hermione could have sworn she saw him wipe a tear as he strode off. _Well I'll be damned._

She turned back to Harry and Ron, who seemed deep in conversation about something. "Are you seriously willing to just let go of all the horrible stuff he's done to us, Harry? It's _Malfoy_! Malfoy! He hasn't 'changed', he's just using you to help You-Know-Who! Sometimes, Harry." Ron shook his head, staring at his best friend in disbelief.

"I'm just saying that maybe we should give him a chance, that's all! It's not like I'm gonna invite him over to Grimmauld Place for tea and battle plans or anything!" Harry exclaimed. He couldn't see why Ron was having such a hard time accepting this.

"Maybe Harry's right, Ron," Hermione spoke up. "Maybe Malfoy's changed. Sure, he's still a gigantic prat and royal prick, but he seems different somehow. He's scared. And if these past five years have taught us anything, it's that people are not always what they seem. It's like Harry said; we don't have to welcome him into the Order with open arms or anything, we just have to give him a second chance. Who knows? Maybe he'll surprise us!"

Ron just sighed. "Oh well, I can see that it won't make a difference what I say, so I guess I'm in."

With that, the trio headed back up to the castle.

_Shit_. Draco Malfoy ripped open his bed hangings, and plopped face-down on his four-poster bed in the Slytherin dorms. _Shit. Stupid Gryffindors. I am totally and completely screwed._ Now, not only did his evil, sadistic, slightly crazed father escape from Azkaban with a fiery vengeance, but he had the sodding Golden Trio trying to 'help' him. _Shit._ _Why does my life have to be so screwed up? I shouldn't have to put up with this kind of shit. I'm a Malfoy, dammit! Well, I guess I kinda screwed that one up too. I guess now I'm just Draco. Just Draco. What am I gonna do? _He thought miserably.He had never felt more alone in his life. Draco screamed into his pillow. He lay there, wallowing in his self-pity, for the rest of the day. He didn't even bother to go eat, even though he was absolutely starving. _Maybe I'll just die if I stay here long enough. I mustn't get my hopes up though._ He sighed.

Suddenly, he was rudely interrupted by a harsh knock on his door. "Draco Malfoy! You come out here this instant! I want to talk to you!" Pansy's voice sounded clearly agitated. Draco groaned. Not her again. It was common knowledge throughout the school that Pansy Parkinson was absolutely in love with him, and both of their parents considered them to be a perfect match. She was always hanging all over him, sucking up to him and whatnot. She really fancied the idea of being married to someone with such great power and wealth as Draco Malfoy had. Well, too bad for Pansy. Ever since third year, Draco had come to realize he was gay. And not just a passing flutter once in awhile when he saw a cute guy, but raging hormones telling him to do very bad things to nearly every being of the male gender. Girls had always fancied him…hell, why wouldn't they? He was fucking gorgeous! But despite his "Slytherin Slut" reputation, he'd never actually 'been' with anyone. Ever. He was just as er…_inexperienced_…as the next guy. Just another reason his life was total hell on earth.

Finally breaking through the locking charm, Pansy opened the door, looking positively livid. "Where the hell have you been lately? Jeez, Draco. I feel like I hardly see you anymore, and when I do you're so distant. It's like you've just stopped caring about everything! Even life! Fuck, Draco, you're really scaring me," she touched his hand, looking sadly into his eyes. "What's wrong Drake? Tell me…" Draco rolled his eyes. He knew an advance when he saw one.

"Look, Parkinson. First, don't call me 'Drake'. Second, I'm fine. Just going through something right now. And third, get the hell out of my room!" He chucked his pillow at her, which hit her squarely in the face. Draco was very grumpy and wanted nothing to do with her. Her eyes filled with tears and she tore out of the room. _Good riddance_, he thought bitterly.

With that, he drifted off into a troubled sleep, dreaming of psycho lunatic fathers and the stupid Golden Trio.

Monday dawned dreary and dull. The entire day went by so slow it was as if someone had bewitched time to make it move sluggishly. Harry yawned for the umpteenth time that day, gazing uninterestedly around at his Defense Against the Dark Arts class –

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" Professor Moody shouted, slamming a textbook onto Harry's desk. He snapped to attention with a start and without any idea what was being discussed. Sniggers were heard throughout the room as Moody shot Harry a warning glare. He shrugged, uninterested, as the teacher proceeded with the lesson.

Finally, after what seemed like five hours, DADA ended and the students made their way out of the dank classroom. Belatedly remembering he'd forgotten his quill on the desk, Harry turned around and headed back for the room. He turned too quickly, however, and he ran smack into none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going Potter!" Draco spluttered, bending down to pick up the textbooks he had dropped.

Harry's own books had spilled as well and he was hastily trying to pick them up, muttering an apology for his clumsiness. In his rush, he accidentally ended up placing one of Draco's books in his own bag. Draco, however, didn't seem to notice and made his way down the hall, scowling. Harry swung his book bag over his shoulder and headed back to the DADA room to retrieve his quill.

Later that evening… 

Harry grudgingly pulled out his Transfiguration textbook, Wandless Magic at its Best, to begin a lengthy scroll on transfiguring a rock into a goblet without using a wand. As he pulled the book out of the bag, a small journal fell out and flipped open to a page in the middle. Remembering Voldemort's attempt to devour Ginny Weasley's life force with a magical diary, Harry regarded this newfound discovery with extreme caution.

Carefully, he reached down and picked up the mysterious book. Flipping to the inside of the cover, he read the inscription:

_To my dearest son, Draco. Use it well. _

_Your loving mother, Narcissa Malfoy_

_I must have picked this up by mistake,_ Harry thought. Slowly, he began to flip to the next page, his curiosity overwhelming him. _No, Harry!_ He commanded himself. _If you're trying to get on Draco's good side, the last thing you need to do would be to invade his privacy like this. But wouldn't this be the best way to find out if he really is telling the truth? You already know he's telling the truth, remember? Yeah, but…no buts! Now get to that essay, mister!_ Harry pouted. He really did want to see what was in Draco's little diary, but that sodding voice of reason always had to get in the way. He got to work on his Transfiguration essay, but found it very hard to concentrate on what he was writing. _Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just take a little peek…you know, get him back for all those times he harassed me…alright, but on your own head be it._ Eagerly, he flipped open to the first page of the journal:

_Dear Journal, _it read. _Today was my fifteenth birthday and it was a pretty dismal celebration. Sure, I got loads of gifts and all that, but Daddy wouldn't even take a break from his "meeting" with the "Dark Lord" to come celebrate. Mummy was nice enough to bake me a cake and all, but it was just kind of a sad birthday. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Maybe I'll go fly on that new Firebolt Mummy bought for me. Yeah, fresh air will do me good I think. Always, Draco._ Harry sighed. _What a spoiled prat._ He shook his head and flipped to the middle of the book, hoping to read something a bit more interesting.

_Dear Journal,_

_The Dark Lord came back again today. Wanted to know when Daddy will let him have me. I don't want to go do his dirty work…I mean, what's the point? I don't know how long Father will be able to convince him I'm too young to do any field work. I guess I'm kinda scared. But Malfoys don't get scared. Malfoys do what's expected of them and don't ask questions. That's just how it is and I sure as hell better get used to it. _

_Draco Malfoy_

Harry stared at the scribbled passage. So the only thing standing in the way of Draco turning Death Eater and aiding Voldemort was the very person that Harry had shipped off to Azkaban. He really _was_ to blame for Draco's depression. The familiar guilt began to creep into his mind. _He had it coming to him. It was going to happen sooner or later. There's nothing you could have done, Harry, so stop blaming yourself. Anyway, he's a righteous little spoiled brat. He deserves it._ But no one deserved to be a victim of Voldemort's. Not even Draco Malfoy.

Yawning, Harry decided to call it a night. He closed Draco's diary and placed it back in his book bag, the Transfiguration essay completely forgotten. He headed up to the dorm.

A/N: Well…here it is! Jeez…this one was loooooooonnnngg! I felt like I rambled, but I just didn't want to leave any of that stuff out. Anyway, the next one should be coming out in the next week or so and I'll love you forever if you review! Chau!


	5. Surprise

Crossing the Line by: GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…yada, yada, yada…don't sue!

Warning: Harry/Draco slash. And R rating. Dear lord, I hope I actually will get to write some action in this one!

Author's Note: Hiiii! Well, here's my next installment. Thank you to everybody who reviewed last time…it really didmake me happy ! Anyway, I'm planning to go out of town for the last week of July, so the next installment may be a little late…just a heads up. So, without further ado, I give you chapter 5!

Chapter 5: Surprise!

"Harry, get up! Get _up_ you useless lug! We are going to miss breakfast if you don't get your lazy arse out of bed _right now_!" Ron smacked Harry in the head with a pillow. Harry groaned in frustration and retreated beneath the covers completely. Ron sighed. "Dumbledore asked us to meet him for breakfast, don't you remember? It's got something to do with the Order and we _need_ to go _now_!" He ripped the covers off Harry's boxer-clad body and hit him repeatedly in the head with the pillow.

"OUCH! Get off, Ron! I'm up, I'm up! Sheesh." Harry sat up and grabbed his glasses off the bedside table. He made his way over to his trunk and pulled out his robes, grumbling about the exorbitant brightness of the sun. He was especially exhausted this morning because his sleep had been troubled with dreams of Draco. Dreams where Draco was just beyond Harry's reach, and Lucius had him by the throat. Harry's dream-self watched helplessly as Draco was murdered by his father. Over, and over, and over again. The worst part about it was the feeling he would get at watching Draco's lifeless body fall limp to the ground. He couldn't quite identify it, but he knew it was not a feeling one normally has about his arch nemesis. And then there was that last dream. The one that had been so rudely interrupted by a certain loudmouth Weasley. Draco had been crying, tears streaming down his face, muffled sobs escaping his pink lips. And he, Harry, had reached up and wiped away a tear from Draco's perfect skin. He had cupped his chin and leaned in – then Ron had woken him up.

Still half asleep, Harry stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He splashed some cold water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Harry tried to contemplate what his puzzling dreams meant. He couldn't help but notice the involuntary leap of his heart every time the mere thought of Draco entered his mind. He couldn't help but notice the way Draco's pearly white hair fell about his face with such a dignified grace. He couldn't help but notice how easy it was to get lost in his stormy gray-blue eyes…_but what does this mean?_ He asked himself for what seemed the hundredth time. _Well, I guess it means that I don't hate him anymore, but that's not such a bad thing is it? But does it mean that…that…I might feel…something more? _No. The thought was just too absurd. He couldn't possibly have…_feelings_…for _Draco Malfoy that didn't have something to do with vicious manslaughter!_ No. Enemies didn't just suddenly fall in love. _Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Oh no, no. I am NOT…in love. No. It's just a…a thing…a purely platonic thing…yeah…umm…oh this is ridiculous! I'm not even gay! Nope. Definitely not. So then what the hell is this feeling? _He brushed his teeth quickly and headed out to meet Ron, putting his confusing thoughts about Draco out of his mind for the time-being.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed immediately toward the staff table to hear what Dumbledore had to say. He bid them a good morning and conjured up a couple of chairs for them to sit on. "I expect you all know why you are here," he said. "As you may recall, outside of Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix is currently working very hard on recruiting members of the wizard community to the Light side. Although convincing some people is proving tricky, others are jumping at the chance to stop Voldemort's reign of terror. Now, it has come to my attention that –"

"Sorry I'm late, Professor. I –" Draco stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed his company. "What's this then? I was under the impression that we were to be discussing certain _private_ matters, sir," Draco glared around at the trio. He had received an owl from Dumbledore the previous night stating that he wished Draco to join him for breakfast to discuss his current situation. He groaned inwardly as he realized that Dumbledore had invented some new way to make his life even more of a living hell by introducing it to the sodding Golden Trio yet again.

Like Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were suffering similar confusion as to this new addition to the meeting. They looked around at Dumbledore, eagerly awaiting an explanation. Dumbledore just smiled at the foursome, the usual twinkle in his eye that meant he had something up his sleeve. "Surprise! I present to you, the Hogwarts Order of the Phoenix." He grinned broadly, gesturing at the four students. "Now, I realize that this previous year, you, Harry, held a secret invitational organization to teach students Defense Against the Dark Arts since you considered the current teacher a…well, you did not think that she was teaching you proper defense. This new organization is going to be much like that in it will aid students in defending themselves against Voldemort, but it will be very different in its setup. First off, the class will be open to anyone and everyone. Second, the meetings will not only consist of learning to _protect_ oneself from Dark magic, but also learning to identify and, if the need arises, use it. Lastly, this group will be led by not one teacher, but four," he gestured importantly at the foursome. "You four are going to be responsible for recruiting students and conducting combat classes to train them. You will equip them with weapons and knowledge; prepare them for the impending war. We will make our own little Order inside Hogwarts walls for students who feel the need to assist us in the battle against Voldemort. I have chosen you four to initiate this because your combined strengths may be just enough to lead us to success in our attempt to destroy Voldemort. Hermione, your brains are legendary; you are the brightest witch of your age. Along with that, you are brave, unafraid to stand up for what you believe in. It's a good combination. Ron, your greatest strength resides in your loyalty. You would go to any lengths to ensure the safety of your friends and family, even at the cost of your own life. That is a highly valued attribute in times of war. Draco, you are cunning and fierce. Your knowledge of the Dark Arts and your fast thinking would be a great asset to the Light side. And Harry. Harry, you are the epitome of a hero. You are brave and loyal, and you have the right impulses to get you and others out of trouble. The only things you lack are covered by your accomplices. Together, you four will be a strong force of good, perhaps even stronger than some in the Order, and you will help lead us to victory against Voldemort." He looked around expectantly. Draco had his eyebrows raised in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. Hermione looked focussed and driven, ready for anything. Ron looked frantically around at his friends, hoping to share a look of horrified disgust. Harry looked anxious. He stared at Dumbledore uncertainly, hoping against hope that he was joking. There was no way they could possibly pull it off, what with homework, the newly started Quidditch season, and the fact that it meant he and Draco would have to work together. There was just too much that could go wrong. "Well," said Dumbledore quietly, taking their reactions in stride. "I trust you will take this opportunity to formulate some strategic planning. And I do expect you all to behave yourselves mind. We can't afford mistakes," he looked slightly drained. "The war is closer than you can even imagine, and I am counting on you four to be the teachers to those seeking to help. Good luck," he dismissed the four bewildered students and grabbed a piece of toast from the beautifully adorned breakfast table. _Dear Merlin, I hope this works. _

"Of all the crazy schemes!" Ron exclaimed as he sunk into the armchair in the Gryffindor common room later that night. "Honestly, a Hogwarts Order? You've got to be kidding! How are we ever gonna pull this off!"

"Well, we'll have to try, won't we?" Hermione said tiredly. "It's clear that Dumbledore is worried. I mean, the fact that he's now attempting to enlist a bunch of student wizards and witches to aid him and the Order in the fight against Voldemort says a lot. It says that Dumbledore doesn't think the _adult_ Order will be able to handle it alone, so he's enrolled a sort of back-up army of students. We're going to be like a second line of defense," she looked very anxious and distraught. "The fact that he's willing to sacrifice students' lives means that things are worse than we initially thought. I don't know if we'll make it out of this," she wiped away a tear with a frustrated hand. "What are we going to do?"

"Well it's obvious isn't it?" Harry said, turning to his companions. "We're going to have to fight. We're going to have to battle like there's no tomorrow. And we're going to have to train for that battle. Harder and faster than ever before," (Cue the inspirational music.) "We've been idle for so long, but now we have a chance to actually make a difference and fight for what we believe in. I think Dumbledore is right: we're the last piece of the puzzle. It may mean losing a few friends, but I think if we can pull this off, we'll actually have a chance of winning this war. We'll talk to everyone…anyone who'll listen. We'll be prepared; which is something Voldemort will never suspect. We'll be ready for anything that him and his filthy, slimy, devil-worshipping Death Eaters throw at us. If we put our minds to it, we can win." Never before had Harry felt so sure about anything in his entire life. Somehow he knew, right then, that they actually had a chance.

"Harry, mate, you're talking crazy," said Ron. "This is huge! It's not just some after- school club. Dumbledore has put an enormous responsibility on us…we are in charge of peoples' _lives_!"

"What I don't get is why he's putting _us_ in charge and not the teachers! I mean, sure we do well in school and all that, but that doesn't mean we're qualified to become battle instructors!" Hermione looked thoroughly confused.

"Well the teachers can't just go around teaching kids how to fight. They've got their own things to worry about…I'm sure Dumbledore has them doing all sorts of things to try and protect Hogwarts and come up with ways to keep the students safe," said Harry logically.

"So now it's up to us. You, me, Hermione, and…Malfoy. Why the hell is he having Malfoy help us train the students anyway? I mean, I get that he's not so hot within the Death Eater circle and all that right now, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's completely reformed!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, voicing one of his biggest concerns. "Where's the proof that he's not just playing us! He's a Malfoy and I'll be damned if I ever trust that worthless piece of shit!"

"Calm down, Ron. I'm sure that Dumbledore has perfectly legitimate proof that Malfoy's on our side," said Hermione reassuringly, though she looked doubtful.

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed. "I actually have proof!" With that, he sprinted up to the boys' dormitories, leaving behind a very bewildered Ron and Hermione.

Back upstairs in the boys' dormitories, Harry frantically searched through his book bag. "Aha!" He found what he was looking for and returned to his friends in the common room.

"Found it!" Harry said triumphantly as he entered the common room once more.

"Er…found what?" Ron asked, eyeing the little dark green book in Harry's hand.

"Dra – _Malfoy's_ journal!" Harry held up the book importantly.

"Oh Harry, you didn't!" Hermione said, exasperated. "I can't believe you stole Malfoy's private property! This is beyond low, Harry."

"I didn't steal!" Harry said defensively. "Two days ago I ran into him in the hallway and both our books spilled and I accidentally picked this up!" Hermione looked at him disapprovingly. "What? Anyway, that's not the point. There's this one passage – "

"Harry James Potter! You actually _read_ it!" Hermione looked absolutely appalled.

"What! I was curious okay!" He continued, looking away from Hermione's livid expression. "The _point_ is that I think he really is on our side and we can trust him! Here, listen to this:" Harry flipped to a marked page in the middle of the journal. It was slightly difficult to read due to the multitude of tear drops blurring the ink, but he was able to make it out. It read:

_Dear Journal,_

_I'm scared. I hate to admit it and I hate that it's true, but I am. I am absolutely bloody terrified. Daddy's gone, Mum's dead, and You-Know-Who and all his psycho sadistic goons are after me. I've had to resort to running to sodding Dumbledore for fucking protection! I'm living in a bloody stinky cave and eating fucking disgusting rats and I haven't showered in three fucking days and I'm fucking sick and tired of hiding. And I WOULD go to You-Know-Who I would! But I just know deep down that they're fighting a losing battle. And the fact that I'd be risking my life just to send a bunch of half-crazed lunatics off on a Muggle killing spree, well, it just doesn't appeal to me. Sometimes I hate that I was born a Malfoy. _

_Draco _

There was an awkward silence as Harry finished the passage. He had discovered this entry the previous night upon searching through the book for something interesting. It was this, more than anything else that led him to believe in Draco's transformation. He looked up at Hermione and Ron to see identical stricken, half-disbelieving expressions.

"It sounds like Dumbledore hid him in the cave just beyond Hogsmeade," said Ron, still slightly stunned by the book's revelations.

"Yeah, sounds like it," Hermione's voice was hollow. She looked as though she was about to cry again. "I never thought I'd feel sorry for Draco Malfoy,"

The trio was silent once more, each contemplating the horrors of what Draco went through. The animosity toward their onetime arch nemesis gradually faded and grew to a feeling of pity and remorse. Even Ron, with his and Draco's not so admirable history, found it in himself to feel sorry for him.

"Well," said Harry quietly, breaking the silence. "Now that we've established Malfoy's honesty, I think I'm going to get some sleep." With that, he trudged up to his four-poster bed and collapsed into it. Without even changing into his pajamas, he nodded off into Draco-filled dreams and uneasy sleep.

Back in the common room, Hermione let the tears she'd been holding back fall freely. Ron moved over to the couch where she was sitting and pulled her into a warm embrace. He knew exactly what was going through her head; he felt it too. Murmuring sweet nothings in her ear he slowly stilled her tears. "Everything will be alright, 'Mione, just wait," he said reassuringly, although he had no idea if that were true.

A/N: All done! This one was _depressing_ man! I think I'm gonna need some therapy! Thanks for reading everybody and I swear I am going to find a way to make Draco happy one way or another in the next chapter…even if it means intoxicating him with laughing gas: runs off to find laughing gas : See you in a little more than a week! Bye! 


	6. Forgive and Forget

Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: I am J. K. Rowling and I am wasting my precious time on writing a romance novel that involves two of my own characters and their being gay together. Please sue.

(For those of you who didn't catch the above sarcasm, no I'm not J. K. Rowling and no, I don't own Harry Potter. Sue me if you must, but don't expect more than pocket-lint.)

Warning: Slash. Male on male relations. Harry/Draco. Yeah. Don't like? Don't read.

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, everyone…I had some stuff to attend to when I got back from camp. Better late than never, right? Anyway, here it is, chapter six. Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews! Um, I guess that's it, so on with the show! Please read and review!

Chapter Six: Forgive and Forget

Draco had done a lot of thinking since the previous day's meeting with Dumbledore. While at first he was completely dead-set against the idea of a Hogwarts Order, after careful consideration he actually found himself warming up to the idea. In this case, the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks. There were actually a lot of advantages to it: he would have the opportunity to learn how to protect himself from all the crazy psycho- people out to destroy him, he would actually get to take part in the destruction of Voldemort and all his twisted minions, get to feel all noble and aristocratic after doing so, _not to mention the fact that I'll get to watch Potter get all heroic and riled up and sweaty and – um, right, no, that one's definitely in the category of bad things about it. Yup, definitely. Bad. Very bad. Yeah._ Actually, the only real flaw he could come up with in this brilliant plan was that he would have to spend exuberant amounts of time with the three people he hated most in the entire school. Well, four, if you count Dumbledore. More like three. Because he didn't hate Potter. No. He just rather disliked the fact that he was so damn famous, and so fucking noble about _being_ so damn famous. He was a fucking celebrity! It just wasn't fair…he was a celebrity, he had great friends, amazing wizard skills, brilliant flying skills, a _really_ nice arse, and – _stop that!_ When it all came down to it, jealousy was the only thing that stood in the way of their friendship.

That, and the fact that Draco's father wanted Harry dead. Minor setback there. It would give "meet the parents" a whole new meaning. Draco sighed.

Down in the Great Hall, Draco cautiously made his way over to the Gryffindor table to discuss the Order plans with : shudder : the Golden Trio. Putting on his most winning smile, he walked over and attempted to keep things civil between him and his former arch rivals. "Morning sunshines! And how are we today?" Draco tried very, very hard not to laugh out loud at the identical looks of utter stupefaction on Harry, Ron, and Hermione's faces. "Well," he continued. "I guess we're not morning people, are we?" Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry just looked slightly confused. Ron stuffed his face with a strawberry crepe. "I just thought we might want to discuss some, er, _stuff_ this morning, if you catch my drift," he said brightly. "I thought it best we get started A.S.A.P., you know?"

"Er, right," said Hermione, uncertainly. "Well, we thought it might be a good idea to begin with recruiting," she began. "We need to make sure we keep this on the down-low so that Voldemort doesn't find out what we're up to. Malfoy, that's where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Harry spoke up. "Being who you are, you've probably got the best idea out of all of us about who is a Death Eater and who isn't. You can make sure that only people supporting the Light side are informed of the plan."

"But what if someone leaks the information? What if they turn sides?" Ron asked pointedly.

"I agree with the Weasel," said Draco, earning him a glare from Ron at his use of that not-so-flattering nickname. Draco ignored it. "Even having previously been in the 'in crowd' of the sanity-challenged-people club, it's hard to tell who's supporting who these days."

"Veritaserum," said Hermione promptly.

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"Veritaserum," Hermione repeated. "We'll slip Veritaserum into the person's tea or pumpkin juice or something, and then we'll ask them who they advocate!"

"Good thinking, 'Mione," said Harry appreciatively. "Drac – er – Malfoy, can you be in charge of collecting a couple bottles of the potion from Snape?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Draco, promptly shaking off the near slip of his first name.

"Great," said Harry, rubbing his hands together. "Then let's go ahead and meet tonight after classes in the Gryffindor common room to discuss – "

"Wait!" protested Draco. "Why can't it be in the Slytherin dorms? I don't want to be spending all my time with bloody Gryffindors!" This comment was greeted by a trio of eye rolls.

"Fine, we'll meet in the library then," said Harry, and everyone nodded in agreement.

Meeting adjourned.

_Later that same day…_

Hermione sat alone in the library, just thinking. No books. No discussion groups. Just her and her in-depth contemplation. She had thought a lot about Malfoy ever since the previous night, when his diary had revealed some not so glamorous things about his seemingly immaculate life. It made him human almost, to have suffered like that, in a way that Hermione had never thought possible in what she believed to be a worthless, slimy, self-centered shit-face of a human being. She hadn't ever felt such a powerful feeling of remorse toward anything or anyone in her entire life. It was no wonder that Malfoy always acted so malicious and cruel…he had a devil of a father and a cold, distant, currently dead mother, his only friends were his dimwitted bodyguards, and he was born into a name that immediately struck fear into the nation; it was no wonder the kid was a bit funny in the head! Never once was he shown compassion or love from another human being. Never once did he know what it felt like to cry on a friend's shoulder.

Hermione had never felt worse about anything in her entire life. She sighed. Right then and there she forgave him for all past cruelties. It seemed sudden, but she finally knew that the only way to help him was to forgive and forget. As much as she hated to admit it, she was wrong about Malfoy, and she was wrong in the way she treated him. There was no sense in continuing on as mortal enemies…especially now that they were on the same side. No. Now was the time to heed the Sorting Hat's warnings…they had to stand together and fight side-by-side, which meant befriending old enemies.

_Now,_ she thought to herself. _If I could only convince Harry and Ron to do the same._

Hermione figured the best place to start in convincing her boys was to talk to Harry. Him being the oh so wonderful world-saving superhero full of compassion, honesty, truth, and all things noble, she guessed he would be the quickest to learn to look past Draco Malfoy's sneer. However, she also knew of Harry's notorious obstinate streak and, from experience, was well aware of the fact that he was not easily swayed once his mind was made up. Therefore, Hermione knew that she needed to lay down her cards right in order to make Harry get past the "civil" actions and come to actually trust and befriend Draco Malfoy.

She had rehearsed the speech thoroughly, going through all the main points and ensuring that she got everything down. She began treading back to the Gryffindor common room to talk to Harry when a noise diverted her attention to a nearby, seemingly abandoned corridor. Muffled voices could be heard resonating off the stone. Curious, Hermione peered around the corner to see a very disheveled Harry and purely disgruntled Draco apparently having a very intense argument about something. She sighed inwardly, and made to step out into the open to break it up.

**_However_**……just as she stepped out behind the stone wall, she saw something she would never have believed had she not seen it with her own two eyes: Having reached an angry lull in the heated conversation, Harry and Draco seemed to have just settled for breathing heavily and glaring menacingly into each other's eyes. They were barely a foot apart. When, all of a sudden, the emotion in the eyes of one Harry Potter altered completely from anger and malice to a whole different sort of look altogether. Without warning, he closed the foot-wide gap in between them and planted a firm kiss on Draco's lips. And as if _that_ wasn't shocking enough, Draco returned it. With just as much heated desire as Harry did.

_WHAT THE -- !_

A/N: W00t for slash! YAY! So what on earth was happening in that little scuttle between our little lovebirds-to-be there that made things turn so…erm…kissy? Find out in next week's flashback chapter! I guess Harry won't need too much convincing after all. Sorry Hermione, I know you worked on that speech special…save it for Ron, yeah? I'm sorry this chapter was so short, but it just ended itself there. Not to mention the fact that I had major, major writer's block through the whole thing so it's definitely not my best work. Urgh. I swear that the next chapter coming is going to be posted way early and it's going to be so much better than this one. Promise. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing (hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink). Again, sorry about the delay! Love you all…review, review, review!

P.S. I realize that this story has been really slow in the get-going and the establishing of all the relationships, but I just felt that it needed the foundation, you know? Anyway, now that I've at least laid out the soil for relationships to blossom a bit, I'm pretty sure that things will start rolling from here. So thanks for hanging in there!


	7. De Ja Vu

Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then in book six all of those situations in which Harry and Draco found themselves together and alone would have actually developed in the crazy, wild, kinky sex scenes they were destined to be. Unfortunately…

Warning: SLASH! YAY! Harry/Draco.

Author's Note: I'm back! I thought I'd make up for last chapter's delayed release and poor quality by giving you a really slashy, somewhat fluffy, and all around fun little chappie! I can't stress enough how wonderful it is to hear from all you fantastic reviewers. : hands out chocolate chip cookies : Anywho, I now present to you: my first ever flashback chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter Seven: De Ja Vu

_: Flashback : _

Harry sat in the nearly vacant common room, feverishly attempting to finish Snape's most recent form of torture in the form of an essay. He had gotten the assignment a week ago, but what with all the bothersome Draco-ness, he hadn't found the willpower to even pull out his quill and jot down anything. So, here he was, a day before the inhumanely long essay was due, and couldn't get his thoughts to focus on anything besides a certain blonde boy.

He set down his quill and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He'd just have to copy – er, I mean, _look over and get some very vague and definitely not copyrighted ideas from_ Hermione's essay. Yeah. He glanced at the time and realized he still had about twenty minutes until the set time for the Order meeting. He packed up his quill and tauntingly empty parchment and headed down to the kitchen for a late-evening, early-bedtime, post-dinner, pre-midnight snack. He often went down to the kitchen after hours seeking nourishment, as Dobby and the other house elves were all too willing to give away spare biscuits and crumpets and such.

His stomach growled and he increased his speed, his mouth watering at the prospect of the freshly baked goods. He turned a corner rapidly and ran smack into – you guessed it…none other than the Slytherin Ice Queen, himself, Draco Malfoy. (I know, I know…)

"Potter!" said Draco sharply. "Watch where you're going!" He picked himself off the ground and sent a sneer at Harry.

"Right, sorry."

Draco simply rolled his eyes. Under normal circumstances, he would have uttered an angry retort or insulted Harry's family or something, but given his current pity-fest and the ever-growing (and more than a little disturbing) feelings for Harry, he left it to a simple "whatever," and made to walk off.

"Wait," Harry grabbed Draco's wrist.

_Shit, this can't be good_, thought Draco. He sighed. "What is it, Potter?" He did his best to keep his expression neutral and bored while purposefully refusing to acknowledge to jolt of electricity that coursed through his body from Harry's touch. He also made sure to ignore how Harry's emerald green eyes seemed to burn with such intensity that they almost bled into his own. But most of all, he completely disregarded the _very_ un-Malfoy-ish leap of the heart that presented him with an intensely strong urge to sing and dance. Harry's voice brought him back to reality.

"It's just," Harry started, not even sure what he wanted. "I wanted to…er…thank you, I guess, for being civil to me and my friends. I…er, we…really appreciate it." _Ugh, how lame was that!_ To his horror, he felt a blush begin to creep into his face. _Always! This always happens! Oh shit, I hope he doesn't notice! _However, the idea that Draco might notice his brightly colored cheeks caused them to turn an even deeper shade of red that would make a red hot chili pepper look pale. Draco raised an eyebrow. _Oh fuck!_

"Are you _blushing_, Potter?" Draco taunted him. Behind his smirk however, a very different emotion was taking hold. He was sure that if it had not been for his upbringing, a blush would have been dawning his own face. _Could that mean…? Or is it just that he thought I might make it mean…? Or does he really…? Is he even…? Oh bloody hell._

"NO!" said Harry defiantly. "I just am, er, getting bloody pissed off at you! Yeah! But, um, I'm better now, and I just wanted to let you know, that if you ever need, um, someone to talk to or anything, I'm here. I guess I kinda pity you a little or something. I guess I sort of feel your pain…'cause I know what it's like not to have a mum and a dad, and I think I might know what your going through, and - "

"You have no idea what the bloody hell I'm going through, Potter!" Draco was suddenly furious. All the emotions that he had pent up inside him seemed to suddenly erupt. "You think you 'know what it's like'? You haven't the slightest clue what I've been dealing with. You…you never even knew your parents! Mine have been there my entire life…you have no idea what it's like to have them so suddenly ripped away from me. I feel lost and scared and completely alone. But you're Harry Potter. You don't know what it's like to be alone. You have friends who will gladly lend you a hand, help you out when you need them, say 'no worries, I've got your back', and you take it all for fucking granted," his voice got softer, his eyes filled with tears. "You take it for granted. You have no idea what it's like to be me, Potter. You don't even have a clue." He blinked back the tears and turned away, enraged at Harry for making him feel so terribly weak. Hurting, because his soul had just been cut open and its contents freely spilled. He wanted to cry. He wanted to weep for his pathetic waste of a life. He wanted someone to hold him and never let go – but he was a Malfoy. And Malfoys were cold, heartless beings that lived in sin and never looked back. They stood alone and didn't complain. And he was a Malfoy. And he could never change that. Never.

Now Harry was angry. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, that lashing out at Draco would do nothing to help his cause, but he couldn't help himself. All the injustice of his childhood that never was and the loss of Sirius, not to mention that horrible ridicule and slander he'd received from the Ministry, welled up inside him and came bursting out in another of his infamous tantrums. "You think you know everything, don't you!" Harry practically screamed. "You and the rest of the idiots in the Wizarding world have always thought that I had it oh-so great and dandy…I grew up with a family of the most fucking uptight, fun-sucking, abusive muggles you could ever imagine! I slept in a fucking cupboard and if I 'misbehaved', or made it so my hippopotamus of a cousin was in the least bit unhappy, I wouldn't eat for a week! I just lost the only semblance of a father I'd ever known, the fucking wizarding world thinks I'm like this immortal God that has come to free them from the fucking epitome of evil and they don't realize that I'm only human, and I have a bloody psychotic madman out to destroy me! I'm sorry you lost your parents and I'm sorry you had to live in a cave but you've got to pick up that pretty little head of yours and notice that your NOT the only one with problems!" Harry finished, seething. He knew he was overreacting and he knew that he should be sympathizing with Draco, not making him wrong, but his temper had gotten the better of him, as usual. _Way to go, genius._

Somewhat humbled, Draco had taken to staring at his shoes…then something Harry had said clicked in his brain. "How did _you_ know I stayed in a cave over the summer?" His eyes were suspicious. He hadn't failed to notice the recent absence of his private diary.

Harry suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Er…I…Dumbledore told me," he said quickly, praying that Draco bought it.

" 'Dumbledore told you,'" Draco repeated. "And why would he tell you such a thing, might I ask?" He bit back a smirk as Harry glanced around, acting very fidgety.

"Er…I…er…um…that's just…I…he…" Harry stuttered.

"Potter," Draco stepped forward, now unable to hold back the smirk. "I don't think you're telling me the truth here," he taunted, "I mean, while Dumbledork is a righteous pain in my ass, he is known to keep his word, and he _promised_ me he wouldn't tell anyone. Now, there's only one way you could have found that out…I've been missing a certain item of mine lately, and I think that maybe, just maybe, you might have found it?"

"…maybe…" Harry was backing down slightly. There was just something about that Slytherin drawl that just made you tell the truth.

"So you admit that you stole my diary," Draco started, slightly incredulous, "and then you _read_ my diary? Is that right?" He forced calm into his voice.

"Er…it might be," said Harry sheepishly. Draco was getting pissed.

"That's low, Potter. Even for you," Draco didn't feel like getting into another row with Harry, so he figured he'd just curse him next chance he got. He started to walk away again.

Harry stepped in front of him.

"So maybe I did read your diary, Malfoy, but at least now _someone_ knows the pain and suffering you've gone through! I can help you! No one, not even a slimy git like yourself, deserves to have their life chewed up and spit back out like that…you can't go through it alone." Harry prayed that Draco understood what he was trying to say.

"Wow," he said, almost laughing, "so the St. Potter finally shows his true colors. Look, contrary to popular belief, I am _not _an emotionally unstable, pansy Gryffindor that needs someone to mop up my tears. And no, I bloody well do not need your help. We're _enemies_, remember?" He tried to sidestep Harry.

"Nice try," said Harry, blocking Draco's way, "but I know what it's like to fall and try to lick your own wounds. It's a hell of a lot easier to have someone do it for you. Figuratively speaking of course,"

"Right," said Draco, restraining an eye roll, "well when I need someone to come lick my wounds, I'll give you a call." He successfully stepped around Harry and began to walk off, willing himself not to turn around. _Don't do it, Draco. You know that nothing good could ever come from this…no matter how tempting that licking metaphor sounded…be a Malfoy, Draco…be strong…be cold…malicious…stand alone, like you were born to do – but what if I don't want to?_ Draco questioned himself. _What if I'd like Harry to lick my wounds, and maybe a couple other places while he's at it?_ He grinned. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have a friend. To trust someone, to love someone. To be all sentimental once in awhile. It couldn't hurt…

He turned around.

Harry was scowling at his shoes. What had he been thinking? Poison toadstools never changed their spots, which meant that Draco would always be the cold, heartless asshole that he was born to be. But he was hurting. Anyone could see that. And Harry would be damned if he was going to let one more innocent person fall victim to Lord Voldemort. Okay, so maybe Draco Malfoy wasn't entirely 'innocent' in all matter of speaking, but he certainly was the victim here. Besides, he had really nice hair.

Harry looked up to find Draco coming back down the hallway towards him. He decided to cut him off before he could utter whatever Dark curse he had up his sleeve. "Look, Draco, just listen for a second, okay? I'm just trying to help and, frankly, you are not being very grateful! I think you should be happy that I'm even making an effort here. Because you're right…we _are_ enemies, and you have been nothing but horrible to me ever since we met. But at least I'm willing to put that behind me and - "

" – oh give me a break!" Draco said, exasperated. "You are just jumping at the chance to be the hero…dammit, Harry, you don't even give a shit what I'm going through! It just kills you to see that someone isn't happy because of you! Just leave me alone if you know what's good for you." All of his previous resolution had dissipated with Harry's little speech – he actually blamed _him_ for their animosity toward each other! Harry was the one who refused Draco's friendship in the first place. Ha! His fault indeed.

Harry let out an aggravated growl. "You are so infuriating sometimes!"

"I could say the same, you bloody wanker!"

They just stood there, as eternity seemed to stretch out before them, seething. Their thoughts echoed each other: _Why can't I just make him understand!_

_Oh well done, Harry. Brilliant. Look at that hurt in his eyes…you did that. He's right, you are a bloody wanker._ Harry sighed. Why did his temper always have to get the better of him? Why? He stared into Draco's masked eyes. The twin blue-gray orbs held so many emotions; fear, sadness, confusion, hate, and…something else. Completely unidentifiable. Harry could feel it too. Draco's pink lips trembled slightly, his blonde hair all tousled about his face, his perfect skin barely stretched across his magnificent cheek bones. Then Harry did something he would've never done had he been in his right mind. Without even a passing thought, he leaned in and touched his lips to Draco's. Softly at first, then gradually picking up intensity as he realized Draco wasn't going to push him away. He grabbed Draco's cheeks and leaned in, deepening the kiss, elated in a moment of pure joy. He suddenly realized that Draco was kissing him back. Everything seemed so surreal…he wanted it to last forever. The feeling of Draco's warm lips against his own, the tentative hands becoming entwined in his messy black hair. Draco's baby-soft skin against his own hands –

_: End Flashback :_

A/N: Squee! Slash! Omgsh, I loved writing this chapter! I really hope I didn't ramble too horribly. Sorry about the slight delay…school has officially started back up again. Ugh. So, unfortunately, updates are probably going to be coming on more of a biweekly schedule. Sorry! Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this flashback chapter…tune in next week to find out what dear little Hermione does with this new revelation! ;) Review!


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